may the horse be with you . . . 'cause the cat sure ain't

My husband is mad at our cat. I'm talking livid. Curiosity better move over, ‘cause the cowboy is first in line. You see, when he went out to feed the horses, the cat dared to not give him the time of day. Snubbed him, you might say. (Never mind this IS a cat and that’s sorta their nature!)

The cowboy thinks all living beings can be trained like horses and should be submissive when called upon to do so (including me . . . but that’s a WHOLE ‘nuther blog!)

Hubby is what equine savvy people call a “horse whisperer”. He first began this undertaking when his patience level defined him as more of a “horse yeller”, but in the past few years he has actually gotten pretty good at the whole "breaking wild mustangs" thing. (Ironically, I always wanted a mustang too - just one from 1967 with a red exterior. Sigh . . . )

Anyway, I digress. Because the cowboy can take an unbroken mustang and have him eating out of his hand, sometimes in a matter of minutes, he believes he should be able to do this with all living creatures.

Our cat disagrees.

I’m eager to see who wins this battle.